


Cookie

by Todesengel



Series: Overs-verse [4]
Category: Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: Gen, Pavlovian response, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-17
Updated: 2011-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 17:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Todesengel/pseuds/Todesengel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He spends the summer linking the smell of chocolate chip cookies and Lance together, forever, in his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookie

The summer immediately after he’d graduated from the classroom portion of the Academy, but before he began his first Training Mission, Keith rented one of the G.G. owned apartments and moved out of his father's house for good. He was eighteen years old and had only the small stipend that was given to all active G.G. members and the little windfalls from the odd jobs he did around the Academy -- research and construction for the most part and teaching the odd summer courses to the youngsters and the officers' brats who were forced to go through summer training to keep them out from under their parents' feet. That was the part of the summer that he _didn't_ like, mostly because he couldn't stand children. He had never been a child and found it hard to feel any sympathy for the soft, whining brats who shuffled their feet as they ran laps or doodled obscene drawings when they were supposed to be learning military history.

Otherwise, though, that one summer was one long golden memory that Keith often pulled out and savored whenever he needed to be reminded that life wasn't always dark and oppressive. He had a good view of the campus grounds from his window and early in the mornings he liked to watch the soldiers on leave jog around the quad and over the river into the woods. Officially the G.G. used the woods to in war games to simulate training in rough terrain. The students, however, used the woods as a place to get away from the oppressive eyes of the Admirals and drink some beer and smoke some pot and maybe get a little nookie before heading back to their carefully regulated lives. Keith had never been there, having had enough of all of those things to satisfy him.

But it was a nice view and the windowsill was large enough for him to sit on it and sip his tea and read.

All in all, his days were quiet and comfortable and full of slow, summer sunshine. The hours tended to blend together into a long streak of golden sameness and Keith was perfectly content to settle into a comfortable routine. He felt domestic and happy and even adopted a kitten, which he meant to give to his sister but ended up keeping because it was small and undemanding. Besides, the cat meant company of a sort and Keith sometimes felt lonely, though he’d never admit it.

So, he was happy and idle and quiet and then Lance had shown up on his door one afternoon, bearing a box of cookies and grinning sheepishly. Keith had let him in more out of surprise than because he really wanted to talk to Lance.

“Hey,” Lance said. He put down the box and scratched the back of his head. “Um. Can I stay with you for a while?”

“What?” Keith said.

“My, uh. The guy I was rooming with. He, um, got a girlfriend and she sorta moved in and now their kinda all over each other and.” Lance shrugged, grinned again and opened the box. “Cookie?”

“Um.”

“Don’t worry. I can pay for my room and board.” Lance patted his pockets and looked so much like the kitten when it was trying to get Keith to play that Keith knew he’d have to let Lance stay. Plus, Lance had brought chocolate chip cookies and they were large and looked soft and chewy. “I got a job. At a bakery near campus. It’s not a lot of money, but I get free cookies and it’s enough with my stipend, so--”

“No, no. It’s fine.” Keith stepped away. “Uh. I guess. Um. We’ll flip a coin to see who gets the futon?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take the futon.” Lance’s smile was heart-stoppingly brilliant and Keith had to take another step away. “Thanks. You’re a life saver man.”

He hugged Keith and he smelled of flour and chocolate and butter and sugar and spices; and beneath that, leather and sweat and Lance. It reminded Keith of that brief moment in the janitor’s closet three years ago, when they’d kissed, and it made Keith want to do more, to see if Lance’s skin tasted like chocolate chip cookies. But Lance had already broken the embrace and was headed for the door.

“I’ll, uh. I need to go get my stuff,” he called over his shoulder. “Plus, um, I kinda have to go to work. So. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah.” Keith gave himself a mental shake and blinked. “Yeah. Sure. Uh. I’ll go get you an extra key.”

“Great. Cool.”

And then Lance was gone and all that remained was the smell of chocolate chip cookies and Keith’s shaking knees.

*

Lance was loud. And Lance was energetic. And Lance made his cat hiss and run for cover, because Lance could be a little rough in his play. His crap was everywhere and he would leave the dishes in the sink and put the lid back on the can of instant coffee when there was nothing more than a dusting of powder left at the bottom. His taste in music sucked and sometimes Keith wondered why he’d ever agreed to let Lance stay.

But on those days when Lance was done with work first, he would make Keith a pot of tea and get him the paper and be quiet for about an hour as Keith let himself unwind. And Keith couldn’t help but laugh at Lance’s stupid jokes and his funny voices and the running commentary he kept up whenever they watched T.V together. Lance liked to sit on the floor, head bumping against Keith’s knee, and whenever he wanted to emphasize what he was saying, he would touch Keith’s ankle in a small, intimate fashion. He was an amazingly tactile person.

It was enough to make Keith wonder if Lance’s old roommate hadn’t found himself a girl out of self-preservation.

At night, Keith would like awake and remind himself over and over that Lance was with Sven. He told himself that Lance didn’t mean anything with the touches, that it was just Lance being himself. He ran through the long, long list in his head of all the things that drove him crazy about Lance, and how he’d vowed to never, ever become attracted to things that were bad for him. He let the old, wanting pain of his childhood wash over him as a stern reminder of the dangers of becoming dependent on something, of how strong the want could be. He gave himself a stirring lecture about responsibility and duty and friendship and doing the Right Thing.

He thought about how it would feel to have Lance wrapped around him, warm and soft with sleep.

*

After a while, Keith got his hormones under control. He managed to push aside all the want he had and the ‘what ifs’ and smile at Lance like a friend and mean it. He even started to get used to the fact that Lance always smelled like cookies--chocolate chip or peanut butter or ginger snaps or oatmeal raisin. He was even able to be around Lance for long stretches of time and think about something other than the heat of Lance’s body and the way the light played in his hair.

Every so often, he actually managed to get pissed off and shout at Lance.

Keith took all these things to be good signs, signs that he was getting over his strange crush.

He absolutely refused to deal with the fact that he started getting hard around bakeries.

He was also pretty sure that he was hiding his attraction from Lance, except that sometimes, Lance would stop talking and look at Keith with knowing eyes and break out the cookies. Keith would take one with a smile and distract Lance before anything could be said. He knew enough, at least, to be happy with what he could get and to not think too much about what he couldn’t have.

Sometimes, at night, Keith wondered if he was happy _because_ of Lance, because Lance’s presence meant that he had an actual friend. He wondered, too, why Lance was so fascinating, why he wanted to hold Lance’s hand in the movie theater and give him gifts--none of which he did, because Keith knew how to control himself. Besides, he still loved Sven too much to make a move on Lance. And, anyway, those were all sappy, pathetic desires and Keith had never been sappy.

It was still the best summer Keith had ever known. Even with the brats and the crappy little apartment and his attraction to Lance.

But summer always ends and when Keith got the note, he could only stare at it in confusion, because he’d forgotten that this wasn’t real.

“’Sup?” Lance asked. He was eating a slice of pizza and when he plucked the note from Keith’s fingers, and read the brief message, he left small grease stains on the paper. “Hey, new orders. Cool.”

“Yeah.” Keith blinked rapidly and got his mind away from summer and into the future. “Training mission. A war game, I think.”

“That’ll be fun.” Lance scooted the kitten off the folded up futon and flopped down. He wiped his hands on his shirt. He pulled a similar looking note from his pocket and tossed it at Keith. It fluttered to the floor and the kitten pounced on it. Keith pulled the kitten away and made a mental note to take it to his sister. He read Lance’s assignment and almost smiled.

“Same squad, huh?” he said.

“Yup. I called Sven last night, he’s in it too.” Lance stretched and yawned. There was a chocolate stain on his forehead and Keith fought the urge to lick it off.

Sven, he thought. Sven, Sven, Sven. Sven and Lance and no Keith.

“They’re trying something new this year. Squads of five instead of six. I wonder who the other two are going to be.”

Keith pushed Lance’s legs away and sat down. “So, I guess you’re pretty excited about seeing Sven again.”

“Yeah.” Lance grinned, and then his grin softened, a little. “But. This was nice. I liked hanging out with you.”

“Yeah.” Keith didn’t swallow, didn’t blink, didn’t let his palms sweat. “I liked it too


End file.
